


The Joy of Creative Service

by tokiidokii



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of War, Origin Story, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokiidokii/pseuds/tokiidokii
Summary: Neon J doesn’t know what to do with himself now that the war overseas is over. No friends, no family, no one to relate to. Guess he’ll just have to make his own. Pre-canon origin story.Tags subject to change!!
Comments: 78
Kudos: 202





	1. Mark I

“And so, to conclude my point, the Border Wars was an ugly mark on this great nation’s history. Land can be reclaimed - but lives cannot.” Neon J said tiredly as he leaned back in his chair. “Lives cannot.”

“Wow!” Replied the museum curator as he wrote furiously in his notes. He was a young man of short stature wearing an ill-fitting suit, Neon J would have thought he was just a kid if he had seen him on the street. Unusual for his age - most of his generation had been children when the war across the sea began, and had little knowledge or interest in the conflict. “Your interview is gonna blow everyone away when they walk through the exhibit. I had no idea we were so close to defeat. And who knew our heroic captain was so staunchly anti-war?”

“I did what I had to do for my city. But I’m not proud of it.” The interview had been exhausting. His computer parts told him he was still at 64% battery, but his human mind felt like it was running on fumes. 

“Thank you so much for accepting my invitation. This conversation has been fascinating.” The curator beamed at him. Neon J felt a little ill that the man could be so chipper and eager after hearing just a taste of how he lost most of his body and mind in the last decade. 

“It is no matter. The pursuit of knowledge of such a catastrophic event is a noble one.”He kept his tone even and ignored the man’s enthusiasm. “Educating the younger generation may prevent it from happening again.” 

“No, really. The organizer of the event was convinced you were dead.” He tapped his pencil against his notebook. “You hadn’t been sighted in over a year. Where were you, anyways?” 

“Well, uh…” That was the first question to give him pause the whole time. He couldn’t tell him he had become a shut-in after the war. This was the first time he had left the house in months. “I have been enjoying my retirement. Getting back into some of my old hobbies, like singing and toy-making. My deepest desire is to serve the people, however, and I thought accepting your invitation would be a good way to do just that.”

“Oh, singing, huh? They say your songs and chants on the ships was the morale booster needed to win the war.” The man nodded. Neon J realized he had forgotten the curator’s name. “Say, if you want to serve the people, you should sign up for the Lights Up Auditions!”

“Ah…” An awkward silence passed through the room, only broken by the soft pinging of Neon J’s screen. If only this kid knew how often those posters tormented him with that very idea. “I’m afraid I’m too old, and my appeal is a little niche for all the young people here. People like you aren’t common, y’know.”

Both true. That and the fact he had a hard time with sudden noises, bright flashes of light, paranoia that people were following him and watching him, and a tendency to overreact to his surroundings. Becoming a star would be nigh impossible for someone like him as much as he wanted it. The idea to produce someone for the Lights Up Auditions came to his mind as well, but who would be willing to put up with such a brash, militaristic personality? Someone no less than a soldier themselves, and those left faced a similar dilemma.

“I guess that’s true. It was just a suggestion, is all.” The curator looked over his notes. “I guess that’s everything I had. Oh, unless you want to look at some of the pieces we’re preparing to display? But you’re free to go home, otherwise.”

He felt ready to go home an hour ago. After he had dredged up all these old memories he spent a year repressing, however, he wondered if being alone with his thoughts was such a good idea. Perhaps it would be a nice little distraction to put it off a little longer. Besides, something suddenly nagged at him to go there. A captain’s intuition was never wrong.

They took about five steps through the doorway when Neon J saw the answer to his problems. On its side lay a large, rusty, and long abandoned machine, with dust working deep into the edges of its dark screens. His display pinged the nearby curator with excitement and recognition of the device. A robotic soldier factory! In one piece! Images flashed through his mind. A grand stage, screaming fans, a robot modeled after a handsome young soldier dancing, singing through his voice. 

"Do you have any idea what this machine _does_?" Neon J asked.

"We think it mass produced expendable robots in a short time frame. Unfortunately, it's totally ruined. A shame, apparently this model is supposed to be pretty rare and really high tech compared to most cheaper factories made during the war.” The curator checked his notes. “But we can't even get the screens to turn on just to show it properly-"

"I can get it running for you." Neon J interrupted.

"You can?"

" _Can I_? Sounds like you weren't listening, soldier.” Neon J placed his hands on his hips. “If anyone in this city can get this factory to power on, it's Neon J!"

That was how the massive thing ended up in his lab. He left out the part where, in addition to fixing the screens, he would also repair...well, literally everything else. After all, they didn't tell him _not to_. There was an inconceivable arsenal of war technology lying around, going to waste, being criminally underutilized. This machine would no longer be one of them.

As he worked, he talked to himself quite a bit. An outsider may have thought he finally lost his mind to grief. Maybe so, but either way, he was recording plenty of voice data for the robot to work with via algorithm. The old ones simply picked stock phrases, or mashed words unnaturally together. They certainly were not made with hitting notes in mind. The robot would need a smooth, attractive voice, one that would endear men and women alike. At first, he read it a novel, then recited some old fairy tales. It took about two days for him to abandon his reservations and just start talking to it. His gruff and commanding voice had become airy and melodic. Something about it felt almost therapeutic as he opened up to it. 

“You’ll never guess the racket I saw at the store today…”

“I don’t know what to order for dinner tonight. There are so many more restaurants than when I left…”

“So, I was thinking about your debut song - All hands on my heart; you’ve got my engine to start. And then the bridge kicks in...”

“I had that dream about the day I lost my legs again.”

It took several more weeks of repair, but he was getting so close! He had finished the voice recordings and the algorithm, fully written a couple of songs to get started at the auditions, and came up with a name for his creation. Now, he just needed to see if it would power up.

"This is the moment of truth! I believe your factory has been successfully repaired, soldier!" He declared to the tube, now upright in proper robot assembling position. He grabbed the plug. "In 3...2...1!"

His cybernetic hand shoved the plug into the wall with unbridled enthusiasm. The back light on the old screen lit up, then popped up those glorious words 'Select Robot Function?'.

"YEAA~AAAAH! YES!" Had he still had eyes, he would have cried tears of joy. It had been so long since he had felt so accomplished, so alive. He danced around in silence for a moment in the middle of the lab. "Ahem. Okay. Here we go."

He didn't know if the robot-making part worked yet, but the fail safe would have activated if that were true. There was only one way to find out. He approached the machine with an unsteady hand. The factory could make five kinds of robots, all serving their various purposes in battle. Which one Neon J should select felt obvious.

White. The Leader type robot. This robot was designed for commanding other battalions of lower ranking robots, or even human grunts. They were more independent than average and better talkers. Their only real weakness was a lack of weapon proficiency. Their learning AI towards people and situations were off the charts, even among other robot soldier types. Truly a shame they never lasted more than a few weeks. The mind boggled at the thought of one lasting months, years. Rumors of one that lived to be eight months old attaining something resembling sentience passed through the base once, but he never met it or met anyone who did.

Without further ado, he slapped the button. The factory whirred to life as its lights blinked and inner processors beeped. It rattled and shook loudly. Neon J noted its creation was slower than standard. He attributed this to the age of the machine. After a moment, however, a Leader White robot dropped out and landed on his feet. 

"ATTENTION!" Neon J saluted to the Model-18914 Leader White. It took only a split second for it to understand and salute back. 

"Sir! What is the mission objective, sir!" Neon J heard his own voice ask.

"Your mission? To serve the people of Vinyl City!” Neon J said. “You see, this magnificent city is powered by music through the government system known as NSR! We're gonna power up the city using ROCKING TUNES!"

"Sir, yes sir!" It barked. 

"At ease!" He replied, and the robot lowered its hand. "Come now, we have a lot of work ahead of us to get you prepared for your audition. Oh, and one last thing..."

"Yes sir?" It asked politely. Maybe Neon J would have to teach it to be rowdier for a better image. No matter right now. Neon J grabbed a sailor's hat off the table with the name RIN scrawled on the tag on the inside and placed it at an angle on its head. The robot straightened it automatically.

"From now on soldier, your codename is Rin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Manager and Fisk for helping me beta!!


	2. First Mission

"Alright soldier, the Lights Up Auditions are tonight! Show me what you goooot!" Neon J exclaimed and pointed to the sky. Rin nodded and took a step forward into a small empty space in the lab. 

It was like watching a mirror image of himself as Rin danced and sang to the beat Neon J had crafted a few weeks ago during a sleepless night in between factory repairs. His moves looked smooth and sexy, if he said so himself. Rin copied each dance move Neon J had shown him down to every jolt of his body or flick of his wrist. The hardest part had been teaching Rin what to do with his face - Neon J relied on various internet videos of big time boy bands to fill in the gaps. With a final flourish, Rin threw his hat up in the air and struck a signature crouching pose with a wink. Neon J clapped with enthusiasm and picked up his hat for him.

"Bravo, soldier, bravo!" Neon J handed him his hat back. “You're gonna blow them away like an atomic bomb!”

"I will not fail the mission." Rin said coldly.

"Ah-ah. That was a compliment.” Neon J wagged his finger. “What do we say when we're paid a compliment?" His performances were good, but his charisma was a little lacking. The last thing they needed was to get thrown out for pissing off a judge.

"....Thank you." Rin responded, glancing at him.

"Atta boy! Now, let's move, move, move!"

~~~~ 

The walk to the auditions was Rin's first ever outing, seeing as he was created less than a week ago. Neon J led the way and eyed him as they walked together. Public transportation would have been faster - but it would have provided Rin with much less information. His bright white eyes darted around the city, taking in the sights of the people and the sounds of the blaring advertisements. Processing, cataloguing, expanding, discovering, learning. What a wonderful thing it must be to be so fresh and innocent.

Neon J led Rin to the location of the auditions and held open the door.

"Okay soldier, we've reached the battlegrounds. Are you ready?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Rin replied, crossing through the threshold with the attitude of someone who had never felt fear. A tactical advantage for the competition, for sure.

"Rin...Male...N/A...EDM...Solo act..." Neon J muttered to himself as he ticked the appropriate boxes on the paperwork. Rin's heat signature moved closer to him from behind his back. Curiosity? Concern? Confusion? Neon J made a mental note of this sign of progress. "Just filling out the paperwork. I'm your captain - or, your manager, as they might say in the business - so doing the legwork is my job. You just prepare for your TV spot."

"Understood." Rin nodded, watching as someone walked by fumbling with a large cello case. Some people glanced his way, likely trying to figure out whether he was an actual robot or just an eccentric performer, but otherwise paid little attention. 

Neon J wished he had his infinite patience as they waited to get approved and sent in for a TV spot. Pre-battle jitters rattled through his organs, making it harder to breathe and giving him a small pit in his stomach. He tried to center himself, as breaking down here would hinder Rin’s performance. He was a robot, after all, he wouldn't forget his moves or catch stage fright. At this stage in development, he would simply do exactly as Neon J commanded. 

"Rin! Yer up. Come film your TV spot." Called a bored tone. Rin strode over in front of the set, while Neon J watched behind the camera. "You ready?"

"Yes _ma'am_." He responded as he tipped his hat. 

"O-okay, haha..." She froze for a second with a blush. Rin was laying on the charm, just as instructed. 

“Attention!” Rin stood tall and saluted before relaxing. “At ease. What’s that you say? A Model-18914 Leader White? Please, Model-18914 Leader White was my father. You lovely people can just call me Rin. I’m here to make waves as Vinyl City’s first ever android vocalist backed by my fresh EDM beats. But watch out, ladies - because I’m steady on a course straight into your heart. Owh!”

Rin struck one of the poses Neon J had taught him, knees bent with one hand in front of his face while staring intensely into the camera. With that done, the woman filming yelled ‘CUT!’. Rin held his stance, glancing at Neon J, and he happily beckoned him forward.

“Was the speech satisfactory?” Rin asked.

“Absolutely! But don’t get too cocky, now, because the tides will turn the second you do.” Neon J pointed his finger in his face. “Your real battle is about to begin.” 

“Understood.” The two navigated the messy backstage together, Rin following closely behind. Finally, they reached the edge. 

“Alright, trooper, this is as far as I go.” Neon J rolled his shoulders in anticipation. “Your mission this evening is solo from here on out. With your skills, you’ll do great!” Rin peered over at him, then nodded.

“Thank you.” Rin said and stepped into the bright lights of the arena. Neon J stayed behind in the shadow of the entryway. All he could do now was hope.

Rin took measured steps towards the center stage. Unphased by the bright lights and the cheering crowd, he moved, his attention laser focused on the panel of judges ahead of him. Once he reached the center, he stopped like Neon J had instructed, and gave the panel a sharp salute.

“Interesting.” From the center podium, Tatiana spoke. The crowd died down, but only a little. “Who are you?” 

“My name is Rin, ma’am.” He replied. Neon J specifically instructed him not to charm Tatiana. He already knew it would _not_ work.

“Rin...you’re not human, are you? What are you?”

“No, ma’am. I’m a naval android, and my mission is to protect the civilians of Vinyl City and their power.” His stance relaxed and he motioned to the cheering crowd. He tipped his hat with a smirk. “I may not have a heart, but my circuits pulse for each and every one of you.”

“A-” _KYAAAAAH!_ High pitched screams from the audience cut off Tatiana’s commentary. Rin’s eyes flashed, instantly locating the camera broadcasting to the jumbotron and blew a kiss into it. Several more seconds of cheers passed before Tatiana could even get a word in. “.....A naval android, you say? Most of the ones left in Vinyl City are the ones from the start of the war, like Type-01s. In fact, it’s quite rare to see any of your model line from that late in the conflict. Unless, of course, you were freshly produced from one of the few intact factories left. Such as the one stolen from the museum last year?”

Neon J maaay have forgotten he was supposed to return that. Rin’s boyish mannerisms straightened back into robot mode, trying to understand why she was displeased. Rin turned to look back at Neon J for aid, but they were too far away. 

“C’mon kid, say something…!” Neon J muttered to himself.

“Have you noticed your creator getting a lot of calls?” Tatiana snarked.

“I don’t understand.” Rin lifted his hat to peer up at her. “Have I made an error?”

“Not you, no. Well...this is a Vinyl City first.” Tatiana leaned forward with a crooked smile. “How about this: your fate and your creator’s fate will depend on how well you do. Tell me, what will you be performing for us tonight?”

“My own original EDM tune, Star Chart of My Heart.”

“Hm. Well then. It’s time to….”

START-THE-ARENA!

Neon J held his breath in anticipation. The real moment of truth. Even with the perfection of a robot’s moves and finely tuned voice, what really mattered was making it through the course, performing a song, and powering up the Qwasa. All things out of Neon J’s control, a feeling he disliked quite a bit. All he could do was have faith in his creation.

Rin took off like a rocket, smoothly shooting robots in time with his moves. Neon J wondered why he ever worried. He had learned from the best, after all! The only thing Neon J did not expect was the reaction from the crowd. Sure, he had taught Rin how to act for max sex appeal, but the sheer volume of high pitched squealing of the audience rattled his sensors. 

In three short minutes, it was over. Rin spun around and positioned himself back in front of the judges, then made his final hat throw. _That_ drove the audience wild, a final screech echoing through the stadium. The judges had to wait a full minute before speaking. 

“How do you think it went?” Tatiana asked. 

“I executed the captain’s instructions with 98.7% accuracy.” Rin held his pose, but he tilted his head up to look at her.

“I’m not surprised to hear that kind of response from a naval android.” Tatiana said. “Judges?”

The pinging on Neon J’s monitor of the thousands of people surrounding him picked up speed. There were six judges on the panel, so the rules stated Rin just needed four checks to pass, three to retry. Four checks to pass, three to retry. Four checks to pass-

  
X

Not that stuck up DJ from Cast Tech District. That man wasn’t impressed with anybody! 

✓

✓

✓

✓

✓

“Congratulations, Rin, for becoming an official affiliate of NSR. Looks like we won’t have to call the police on your creator after all. You’ve done well.” Tatiana smiled, more genuine this time.

“Thank you!” Rin’s broke out into a wide smile in return.

“About your android…” Tatiana said to Neon J after the show in a small meeting room while flipping through stapled paperwork. Rin sat obediently in the office chair next to him. Although, the robot had discovered a few minutes ago that the chair spun and was now experimentally turning it in a gentle back and forth motion with the tips of his feet. Neon J and Rin had been the only contestants picked that night. “His Qwasa output as of now is a little lacking. I have ideas to improve that in the future, but for now, let’s just get down to where you two have the most potential: merchandising.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to download a homestuck skin to add the colors, this is the first time homestuck has ever been useful to me in my whole entire life


	3. Rin's Lesson

Rin craned his neck around to watch a large, colorful bus as it sped down the road in Cast Tech District near their outdoor table at Neon J’s favorite coffee place. Lights glittered like little stars on the sign that read in big black text ‘Black Hole Cafe’. They had been so busy since joining NSR, Neon J decided an outing would do both of them some good. Though still relatively small for now, Rin was cultivating a growing, dedicated audience for his music thanks to Neon J’s instructions and Rin’s impeccable ability to copy them. Still, he could only teach Rin so much. Knowledge about life around them should be gained via experience.

“So, now that we’re away from the housing area of the district, what do you think of the main drag?” Neon J asked Rin.

“I understand what you told me on the way here. The astronomical theming is much more apparent as you get closer to the city.” He answered, looking around for emphasis. “There are highly accurate depictions of celestial bodies everywhere. I am reminded of navigational charts.”

“Right, right. The guy who runs this place certainly knows his stars, at least. Do you like it?” 

“I have no preferences. However, I appreciate the accuracy. So, I believe I do ‘like’ it.” Rin replied. It seemed as though he might say something else, but the appearance of a server stopped them.

“Here’s your black coffee, sir.” The waitress said as she set the cup down.

“Thank you.” Neon J replied, examining the heat signature from the cup while she walked away. “Better let it cool off, or I’ll burn my esophagus.”

Rin did not reply. Instead, he sat there, his eyes widening and narrowing. Neon J had not seen him do this before, but a look of concentration on his features was almost unmistakable. Neon J leaned forward for more information.

“Something the matter, soldier?” Neon J opened a straw and stirred his drink with it. He needed one to consume liquids. “You have coffee present in your database already, right?”

“Yes, of course I do. But captain, I have a question.” He answered, apparently waiting for his turn to speak.

“Well, spit it out then. You know you don’t have to ask permission for my help.” 

“Right, yes, sir.” Being so casual was not in his programmed nature, so Neon J did his best to encourage it. “Why did you say thank you?”

“She gave me my coffee, so I said thank you.” Neon J opened a small hatch in his throat and took a sip from the straw. Thermoregulation kept his body at a constant temperature, so he never felt cold on days like this when the rest of Vinyl City needed to bundle up. Regardless, the human side of him reveled in the brief warmth to his organic parts.

“But previously, you told me to say thank you when I received a compliment. Or, ‘thanks~’ if it was from a fan.” Rin made the two-fingered hand gesture Neon J had indicated to him before.

“Oh, you can thank someone for any number of reasons. If someone gives you something, or does something nice for you, it’s only right to thank them afterwards.” There was no need to be nice to ‘just’ a robot, so Rin had no need for the words. Neon J left that part out, though.

“Something nice...thank them afterwards…” Rin repeated. 

Apparently satisfied, he sat there a moment as Neon J sipped his coffee. Then, he reached for the napkin holder in front of them and pulled out a napkin. Neon J fought the urge to laugh as Rin pulled out a few more and set them on the table.

“That’s a napkin holder.” Neon J answered, voice box warbling subtly. Rin pulled out another napkin. “Ahaha! O-okay, that’s quite enough. It only holds napkins.”

Suddenly, Neon J’s radar picked up a new presence that had stopped right behind them.

“Ah. If it isn’t Neon J taking his little pet animatronic for a walk.” A familiar deep voice rumbled.

DJ Subatomic Supernova stood there with a to go cup in his hand. Not only was he standing there, clearly staring at them, he was wearing his usual shorts in this 40 degree spring weather. With a _scarf_. If only Neon J had the eyes to shoot him a dirty look. 

“What are you doing here, littering up my district?” Subatomic demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Neon J shot back.

“I _live_ here.” Subatomic shot back.

“So do I, I meant about the litter-!” Neon J huffed. Rin had stopped playing with the napkin holder and now focused his attention entirely on the conversation before him. “My _co-worker_ and I were enjoying a day off.” 

“You gave your robot a _day off_?” He inquired, turning to the robot. “How nice of you. Next you’re going to tell me the supermarket let the cash registers unionize.”

“If they were built with the kind of technology he was made with, maybe they would!” Neon J’s fist slammed on the table, narrowly avoiding his coffee cup. “There is no need for all this infighting, Subatomic. We fight under the same flag!”

“I’m afraid you’ll find NSR isn’t like the military.” Subatomic sneered. “Tatiana and the others may have approved of you for ‘marketability’, but that doesn’t mean I have to. I have my own standards. And your pop music is as soulless as your robot itself.”

“Soul? SOUL?! You can insult me, you can insult my music, but how dare you insult my soldier!” Neon J stood up now, getting into Subatomic’s face. “Rin has as much soul as anyone I’ve ever met!” 

“Is...something wrong?” Rin tensed, ready to attack in self defense. 

“You’re nothing but a facsimile of an archetype with a pretty voice.” Subatomic held up his hand to indicate he meant no harm. Neon J looked over to see what Rin would say. “You’re not real.”

“Does that matter?” Rin asked.

“Of course it matters! You could never understand the complexities of human emotions required to make music!” Subatomic replied.

“A cello or a synthesizer do not have human emotions. They make music just the same.” Rin stated.

“They’re not alive, and neither are you. That’s all you are. A tacky little instrument.” Subatomic checked his phone. “Excuse me, but I must be off. You and the machine have a lovely day.”

“Yeah! Get out of here!” Neon J yelled as Subatomic walked away calmly. With a sigh, he settled back down into his chair. “Rin.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Rin,” His hand slid across the table and covered Rin’s bulky one. “You’re real. Okay? I want you to know that.”

“Why is it important if I am truly real?” Rin shook his head. “I am neither real nor not real. I exist just the same.”

“You’re real.” Neon J argued, almost pouting. 

“Yes, sir.” Rin had no other reply, so Neon J just took a sip of his coffee and tried to forget their unpleasant encounter.

_Neon J,_

_Thank you for your excellent work as always as an NSR certified musician. Rin’s popularity has only risen in the last six months due to your tireless efforts. As you may know, Vinyl City’s district elections will be upon us in three month’s time. Breakout hits such as yourself are qualified to accept nomination quickly, however, your Qwasa energy output is too low to win the majority vote. If I may, I’d like to suggest a strategy that could boost popularity, marketability, and Qwasa output. Please send me an email at your earliest convenience, and we shall schedule a meeting after Rin’s next concert._

_Regards,_

_Tatiana_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted djss to insult rin by calling him 'seaman' but couldn't bring him to do it in the text so here's that idea for you to think about now.


	4. Man Overboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag change mind the tags

Neon J was riding high. Every week, Rin brought in fans, electrical power, and money. Neon J was never one for material possessions, but it might be nice to move into a larger home. Perhaps Rin could have a room to call his very own to charge and store possessions in, instead of using the cramped laboratory each night. Which reminded him, he also required a larger laboratory space to work in and upgrade Rin. There was very little room to build things in it ever since Neon J had come into possession of the factory. Tatiana had also requested a meeting with him, which was a big deal for anyone in Vinyl City.

A shame Neon J was bad at taking his own advice.

“Alright, soldier. Since we’re trying out a new trick tonight, I want to ensure you’re battle ready for this performance. ” Neon J sat at the front row seat at the currently empty concert hall. The only people present were him, Rin, and about a dozen stagehands getting things ready behind the scenes. Rin rarely needed rehearsal unless he was learning a new trick, like today. Neon J clasped his hands together in a gun shape. “I’m going to run the song back. Your mission is to fire your laser - carefully - towards the designated targets on the stage on time during the chorus. I feel like I’VE - regular laser, left target - BEEN - regular laser, right target - SHOT! - purple laser into the steel target above.”

“Left, right, then top.” Rin repeated from the stage with his arms folded. He nodded and the corners of his lips twitched. “My fingers have been calibrated. I’ll make sure this performance will impress!”

“That’s what I like to hear. ROLL THE MUSIC!” Neon J called. Rin hurried to his position at the center of the stage and rolled his shoulders in anticipation.

The music was much louder this close to the stage, rattling Neon J’s monitor slightly as the bass kicked in. He paid it no mind, though, far too focused on watching Rin as he performed the opening choreography with his usual seamless grace and style. Grace and style he’d learned from Neon J, he thought as pride swelled in his chest watching the boy. Neon J leaned in as the chorus approached to observe Rin’s aim. 

“I’ve-”

Left target.

“Been-” 

Right target.

“SHOT!”

Middle target-

Two large, white pieces of wood fell from the rafters, split down the middle in a jagged edge. In the zone of the performance, it took 1.78 seconds for recognition to strike him like a bolt of lightning. His old navy self would have called this downright sloppy. 

SNAP!

“Rin!” Neon J jumped to his feet. Rin continued performing as instructed. “Mov-”

CRASH!

A light tumbled from the rafters, making a resounding crack against Rin’s skull as it crashed to the ground. 

“CUT THE MUSIC! CUT THE MUSIC! SHIT!” Neon J quickly scrambled up the stage.

Dark oil pooled around Rin’s crumpled form. His hat had become embedded into a shard of the light, revealing the large dent in his head that oil gushed from freely. Half of his synthetic skin had torn off of his face, and each unnatural twitch of his body dislodged chunks of synthetic hair. The LED light had shattered and gone dim in one of his eyes. Neon J fell to his knees and grasped one of Rin’s hands. Neon J simply ignored the pain as Rin began to spark and seize.

“MEDIC! Oh God, Rin!” Neon J squeezed the boy’s hand. “Speak to me!” 

“I-I-I-I, J-J-J-J-” His voice box glitched. His one good eye blinked, then suddenly, looked up at Neon J with clarity. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, boy. I’m here.” He couldn’t tell if the shaking in his limbs was from terror, or from direct contact with the short-circuiting servos.

“Captain. Neon J.” His lips ceased movement, but the sound emitted clearly from his voice box. “Thank you.”

“Wait- no, no no no no, please-” 

The other LED light went out. Rin stopped twitching.

Neon J fixated on the growing pool on the ground. Horrified, he watched the fresh, dark liquid soaked into the cracks between the floorboards. The young man had ceased all movement and suffering. Several previously unnoticed people pinged on his racing radar, surrounding him. One approached him from the rear. “Halt! Do not come any closer!” Neon J spun around and pointed his finger sharply. Deafening, ear-piercing static suddenly echoed distantly through the concert hall. 

The man said something Neon J could not make out over the noise. Whether or not he could hear him, he failed to obey and stumbled up onto the top deck. Neon J’s heart raced, and he reached for his hip, but found it lacking. The other man’s arm reached for his shoulder. With a shout, Neon J grabbed his outstretched arm in one swift movement and snapped it in his robotic elbow. His enemy let out a blood curdling shriek.

Suddenly, half a dozen enemy soldiers had their hands on him. He thrashed in their grasp, metal heels making deep gashes in the wood. They ripped him off his opponent, throwing him backwards onto the ground. The sun burned his eyes as he sat there, dazed and dizzy. Dozens of pop-up warnings swam through his vision.

“My arm! He-he broke my arm!” The human voice reached him over the static. 

Neon J stumbled onto his feet and the horror of what had just happened, what he had just done, dawned on him. He wanted to apologize to the stagehand holding his broken arm, to the ones who’d tried to stop him, to everyone. A few words slipped out before he realized all that was coming out was more garbled, angry static. The stagehand with the broken arm sniffled, and the others stared in shock and confusion. After a few seconds, Neon J manually closed his voice box to end his cacophony, fell to the floor, and curled up with his head to his knees.

“Call an ambulance. And then, call Tatiana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my bad


	5. Shell Shock

Neon J returned home through means he could not quite recall, clutching the crate of Rin's remains to his chest as he stumbled through the threshold in a daze. He found himself heading to his bedroom and placing the crate heavily on the floor. Rin sat folded up in the box, his hat covering the gruesome remains of his face. 

Neon J pushed it further into the corner of the room. His head still swirled with emotions as the occasional error or warning message swam across his vision. He balled and unballed his fists as he tried to process his current feelings and looked around the room. Bed, window, painting, ship in a bottle, bookshelf, gun safe. His vision landed on the thick, steel gun safe across from his bed. It was fireproof and reinforced on the inside with extra sheets of metal. The urge to blow off steam and put a few dents in the sturdiest thing in his house was overwhelming. With a low growl, Neon J wound his arm back and landed a hard punch to the center of the door with a shout. Metal-on-metal shrieked in his auditory sensors.

It took him a moment to realize what he’d done. Neon J stood there with his hand through the door. He flexed it. He balled it back up and removed it from the hole he made, clean through to the inside of the safe. His metallic fingers were almost perfectly intact, with only a small scratch to show for it.

“My god - everything in your life is just a shitty imitation!” Neon J cried out with a joyless cackle. 

How did his life end up this way, he wondered as he ripped the sheets off of the mattress. He wanted to eat and move with all the qualities of a normal person! The ship in a bottle smashed onto the floor into thousands of pieces. He wanted an actual career, not just in the background, but in the spotlight! The painting of the ocean hanging behind the bed snapped in half effortlessly. He wanted to create and perform and give and smile without a permanent cloud of dread following him! The bookshelf overturned and spilled its contents all over the floor. He wanted to have already started a family at his age, with a child of his own flesh and blood! A particularly heavy book flew through the window, shattering it. An electronic screech of grief punctuated his rampage.

He wanted…!

He wanted…!

He wanted the real thing!

Neon J gasped and observed the chaos as he came down from his destructive high. The first emotion to replace his grief-stricken rage, oddly enough, was something of nauseated embarrassment. He had been of sound mind through that entire ordeal. No flashback to blame. An odd calm washed over him. Life wasn’t fair. Neon J had learned that years ago. Nothing to do but accept it. Unable to stay and face the immediate consequences of his actions, he found himself wandering downstairs to the lab with Rin in his hands. 

“I’m acting selfish…” He muttered to the body in the crate. “Life has been very kind to me. I’m still here. You are not.”

He could offer Rin the dignity of one final diagnostics report - something like a human receiving an autopsy, perhaps. Neon J gingerly laid Rin’s form prone on the table. One of his eyelids had been knocked loose and fallen shut on its own, but the other eye hung open. Neon J placed two gentle fingers on the other eyelid and closed it.

“Shh. Rest now.”

He grabbed a couple of cables and plugged them into his neck. One made an awful feedback sound as it went in, the radar on Neon J’s screen glitched and turned backwards for a second before returning the right direction. He looked at the display overhead for results.

STATUS: UNAVAILABLE

He figured as much. Grabbing a large magnifying glass overhead, he was about to bring it down to his level when his phone began ringing. He didn’t bother to answer it, even with ‘TATIANA CALLING’ flashing on his screen. He simply muted it and got to work examining some of the delicate circuitry in Rin’s brain. Though most of his body may be intact, there was nothing salvageable in the parts that really mattered, in the parts that were Rin. Neon J, a human, had somehow lost half of his body mass and lived. Yet, a blow to the head had taken Rin out forever. 

“Dumbass...didn’t check the prop was steel first…” Neon J kicked a loose screw across the floor. He grabbed Rin’s hat, then stomped back upstairs. “Didn’t make any memory back ups...people back up their goddamn laptops all the time…”

“Warning - low battery - 15%.” A disembodied robotic voice told Neon J in his head. Heaving a sigh, he crawled back into his room, traversing the mess he had made and was now far too exhausted to clean. He shrugged off his jacket, unearthed his charging cord from under a mass of books, and plugged it into the side of his monitor.

Sleep may have made him feel better, if only he could get any. Charging his cybernetic parts meant it was time for sleep - but the sleep would not come. He clutched Rin’s hat to his chest and rolled over on the barren mattress, mindful of the cord as the hours ticked away and melted into nothing. The dark hole made in the gun safe hours ago stared at him with a piercing gaze, and Neon J caught himself staring back. 

_Solve your problems_ , it sang so sweetly, beckoning him to come closer. But whenever he moved to do so, its leer became mocking. _Coward_ , it seethed.

At some point, a new noise knocked him out of his spiral. _Knock, knock, knock._ Someone knocked on his front door. Neon J laid there, decidedly too tired to move. _Knock, knock, knock._ Perhaps they would leave if he simply did not respond. _BAM, BAM, BAM._

“Neon J? Neon J, open up at once.” Demanded a voice from outside. “If you do not open this door, we will open it for you.” Neon J groaned. Morning light poured in through the jagged hole in the window. When did it become daytime?

“I’m here.” Neon J called wearily, voice laced with light static. He unplugged himself and trudged to the door. It took him a moment to undo all seven latches keeping the door shut before he cracked it open with the final door chain still on.

A man and a woman stood on the porch. They were both quite tall and dressed in pristine, black suits. Sunglasses covered their eyes. They looked stern as they faced him, but Neon J caught some flicker of emotion on the man’s face as he opened the door just a crack. An expensive looking car had parked out on the street in front of his house.

“We were sent on behalf of Tatiana for a wellness check.” The man explained and flashed an NSR business card. “Would you mind coming with us?”

“Am I being arrested?” Neon J asked upfront.

“No.” The woman said, her tone much more clearly relieved. “We’re all just very tired of hearing your voicemail message.”

With no other choice, Neon J nodded solemnly and followed them into the car. One deathly silent ride later, and they were at the entrance of NSR Tower. The two agents never left his side as they escorted him up the elevator. For not being arrested, he sure felt like he was on death row. Once at Tatiana’s office, the woman opened the door for him. 

“...and so, my current ideas for a billboard satellite are as thus follows:-” The door interrupted the hulking DJ with a soft creak. 

“Ah, Neon J. Good to see you.” Tatiana’s voice remained even as she sat at her desk. Subatomic groaned, likely sensing whatever he was talking about was about to be cut short.

“What are you doing here?!” Subatomic boomed. “Tatiana and I were in the middle of a very important meeting, you know.” He stiffened. He turned towards Tatiana to judge her reaction, then back to Neon J. “Hmm. That’s odd. Where is that singing roomba of yours?”

Neon J tilted his screen to the floor. Subatomic raised his hand to say something else, paused, and stopped.

“I’m afraid something has come up, DJ Subatomic Supernova.” It was Tatiana who broke the awkward silence with her calm and collected demeanor. “Would you mind rescheduling the rest of this meeting to a later date?” 

“I...I suppose I have no choice. Have a good evening. Or, morning now. I shall work on my proposal in the meantime.” He stood up from his chair and left with no further fuss. Neon J picked up Subatomic’s location hesitating at the door for just a moment, though. 

“Neon J. Sit.” Tatiana commanded. He obeyed and took the place where Subatomic had sat. “I do not appreciate being ignored, you know.”

“Am...am I being discharged?” The pitch of the ping of his monitor grew low.

“I said I do not appreciate being ignored. You will speak when it is your turn, do you understand?”

“Yes si-ma’am, yes ma’am.” His arm raised in a salute on instinct.

“Very good. If it helps, allow me to clear your mind,” Tatiana began. “You will not be arrested. The stage hand has not pressed charges against you. NSR has covered his medical bills, and he will make a full recovery.” Tatiana adjusted her glasses and looked down at something on her desk. It didn’t answer his question, but it did release some tension in his shoulders. “The loss of the robot was no doubt traumatic for you, and the theater takes partial responsibility for what happened. But, this is no time to turn tail and run because of tragedy. You’ve got a job to do, and a contract with NSR to fulfill. Tell me, if you were to lose one of your men at sea, what did you do?”

“Notify his next of kin?” He said, unsure. Tatiana rolled her eyes.

“And then would you run home and give up?”

“Well...no! Of course not.”

“Exactly! You must keep going for the sake of your cause.” She smirked. “This is not the end. Think of it as a new beginning instead. This is the perfect time to regroup, rethink your strategy, and prepare for battle once more. Here is my proposal: you’ll take this opportunity to rebrand. I want you to update Rin’s design, and have a fresh debut with an entire robot boy band.”

“A...boy band?”

“That’s correct. Not only could you generate more Qwasa power, merchandise, and fans, but more interest as well. You’ll miss election season, but that’s only a chance to increase your popularity first.” 

“Well…” 

“Rin has made non-living artists something of a trend.” She leaned forward. “I’ve heard rumblings of artists who exist as nothing more than complex collaborations between people, a fascinating concept. You’ll have to stay ahead if you want to keep up in the industry.”

“I mean...the factory does have the ability to make five combat robots.” Neon J tapped the bottom of his screen in thought. “I could make four new ones and have a whole troop of harmonizing robots.”

“And you’ll have to make Rin again, of course.” Tatiana added.

“Rin is…” He folded his arms. ”Ma’am, with all due respect, Rin is gone. His memory banks were damaged irreparably.” 

“It is indeed unfortunate.” She steepled her hands and pointed them in his direction. “However, you possess an entire robot factory at your disposal. All you have to do is make a new Rin, yes?”

“Make a new Rin?!” The pinging of his screen grew faster. “Absolutely not! No way! Negatory!” 

“Neon J, the people feed off of familiarity. Rin must remain the face of this operation going forward. The public will never know the difference.”

“Tatiana!” The pinging got even faster as he yelled. “I know the difference! You know the difference! What you suggest...it’s disrespectful to the life we’ve lost!”

She paused, and the sounds of his screen filled the silence. Neon J could practically see the gears ticking in her head, like a clock wound much too fast. A chill ran down his cybernetic spine at the sudden glint in her eye.

“I see you are prepared to let Rin die in vain for his cause, then?” 

Ping. 

Ping. 

Ping…

Ping….. 

“Rin wanted to serve the city and provide it with power.” Tatiana continued. “He told me himself on the night of his audition. He worked so hard to achieve his goal that he gave his life for it. I cannot imagine a better way to honor that young man. I’m certain it’s what he would have wanted.”

“Rin...certainly would have wanted the city to thrive.” Neon J conceded and slumped over. 

“I’m glad we can agree.”

“But...I’m not going back to music right away!” He huffed. “The factory and its robots need some major upgrades if we are to prevent this from happening again. I’m begging you, please, at least grant me that.”

“I see I’ve gotten your attention.” Tatiana leaned back in her chair with a smile. “Please, take a few days to recover if you must. Take as long as you need to improve your robots and their capabilities. But I would like to be updated on your progress. Don’t let me down.”

“Yes, ma’am. I won’t let you down. I won’t let this city down. I...I won’t let Rin down!” Neon J wondered what the hell he had just agreed to. Nevertheless, his mind could not idle for long. He found himself sketching blueprints as soon as he returned home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't actually remember writing any scenes for this chapter, once i started typing i blacked out as the spirit of pure rage from the circumstances of the last 9 months possessed my mortal body once again. also i was not expecting tatiana to be a legitimately fun character to write but there we go


	6. Mark II/Over Again

After months of work, Neon J finished installing the new upgraded schematics into the factory. ‘Select Robot Function?’ flashed on the screen. This was it, mountains of effort and Tatiana's guidance had led Neon J to this moment. His hand hovered over the button to build another robot. Just press the button, now. That was all he had to do. And yet, the Leader White’s eyes on the screen pierced right through him. The spinning on Neon J’s monitor grew faster as he stared back. His heart raced in his chest, confusing his cybernetic parts and flashing a few warnings into his vision. 

"Easy now, J...easy easy easy..." Neon J muttered to himself and gripped the table as his hands shook until the metal dented with a creak. He let go, examining the perfect grooves of his bulky metallic fingers. "Oh, come on!"

He turned to the worktable next to him. Pieces of Rin's remains he had used to reverse engineer the new upgrades lay scattered on the table. They were unrecognizable now, an empty chassis, many odds and ends, some joints and steel framing. His fingers hooked under the lip of the table to flip it, imagining how satisfying the horrible metal crash of all those tiny parts would be, all the work it would take to pick them up be damned.

It was more difficult than first assumed. At first, he only succeeded in scooting it across the floor. His screen titled down as he put in more effort. There, he made visual contact with a single, intact shell of a robotic eye sitting atop a pile of wires. Unblinking. Piercing. Watching his every move, as it did once in life. Reality of what Neon J was trying to accomplish began to sink in, and he crumpled to the floor in a heap.

“Is this _really_ what you would have wanted, Rin?”

His cooling fans spun faster as he tried to calm himself down. The phantom of cold sweat rolling down his face tickled where his forehead should be. Neon J thought of Tatiana. She was waiting for him to deliver, and he had no other means of providing for himself. He thought of DJ Subatomic Supernova, who had no faith in his creation, who he never had the chance to prove wrong. He thought of Rin. His boy, Rin, whose own legacy he would never get to see. All the things they had wanted or expected of him.

Neon J pulled himself up off the floor. He looked at the table, and at all the blueprints scattered around the laboratory for Mark II. His frenzied handwriting detailed complex cloud memory storage, hosted on servers by NSR themselves. It was a technology he could have never hoped to achieve without them. He thumbed through more of the blueprints, the ones detailing additional physical memory backups and how to properly store them. The schematics showing more articulated joints, dexterous fingers, and more expressive faces. The pages and pages of meticulous notes mentioning all his small aesthetic changes - fluffier synthetic hair, LED light up cheeks, a subtler uniform. A host of minor differences that would ultimately make the robots less oppressive and militaristic, while still indulging in their origins. It must have been hundreds of hours of work poured into all of this in only a few short months. After all this contemplation, he did something unusual.

Neon J thought of himself. 

He spun around and brought his fist down onto the button hooked to the factory. His innards went cold as he made his decision, but he powered through. The machine buzzed to life as instructed, motors purring as it spit out a sleek robot in only a few minutes. A new Leader White dropped out and landed on its feet before him. 

"Attention!" Neon J shot a trembling salute to the Leader White. It took only a split second for it to understand and salute back. 

"Sir! What is the mission objective, sir!" Neon J had heard that voice talk to him so much, he almost forgot it was his own.

"Your mission- your mission is to serve Vinyl City and its people.” Neon J’s voice cracked. The only thing keeping him together was the somewhat drastic alteration to his appearance. “Our city is powered by music through NSR. That’s the- that’s the government. Anyways, NSR needs the power of music to keep the city powered. As a Leader type, you’re the leader of my project. Your code name...your code name is Rin.”

"Sir, yes sir!" It barked. 

“Okay, at ease.” Neon J pointed to a spot on the floor. ”Please go stand over there while I assemble the rest of the troops, then I will brief everyone on the details.” Rin walked far smoother than his predecessor to the designated area. Neon J flicked a joystick on the panel to distract himself with his next selection.

Blue. The Infiltration type robot. Infiltrator Blues were designed to sneak in onto other ships in order to raise serious hell with its tonfas once inside. Their learning intelligence was a close second to White Leaders due to their ability to work alone. They were cooler, quieter, and sneakier. They even had enhanced night vision to accomplish this. Unfortunately, a grim fate befell any that were successful in their infiltration, seeing as they were surrounded by enemies in the end.

In just a moment’s time, a new Blue Infiltrator came into the world. 

“ATTENTION!” Neon J shouted and made a steadier salute this time, and the fresh robot saluted back. 

“Sir?” Blue asked.

“Blue - your code name from now on is Purl-Hew. Please go join Rin over there, and I will brief you in a moment.” Neon J said, and Purl-Hew nodded and strode over to Rin. They did not so much as glance at each other as they faced sternly towards their creator. Neon J turned his attention back to the factory.

Red. The Combat robot. Combat Reds were designed for close quarter carnage, as well as occasionally cutting open holes in ships with their massive saw blades. Their learning intelligence was average at best, rarely used for tactical moves as they could be a little impractical. Once they locked onto a target, they rampaged forward without mercy.

“ATTENTION!” Neon J announced.

“SIR!” The Combat Red snapped up at his command. He returned the salute.

“Red - your code name is Zimelu! At ease. Join Perl-Hew and Rin and wait for my briefing.” Zimelu ran over to join the others. That cold feeling in his human parts dissipated as he admired his handiwork so far, three robots standing tall and proud before him. Finally, he tore himself away and focused on his mission. He could not afford to make the same mistakes.

Yellow. The Missile robot. Missile Yellows were the most useful robots to have when doing combat out at sea. They were usually commanded where to go by Whites or humans, so their learning intelligence was slightly low. However, they could fire with precision, and just three or four of them could crack massive ships in half. 

“ATTENTION!” Neon J had almost formed a rhythm now.

“Mhm, yes sir!” The Yellow Missile heard him and bounded forwards with a salute.

“Yellow - code name, Haym! At ease. Join Zimelu, Purl-Hew, and Rin. I’ll have instructions for you in a moment.” Neon J watched Haym jog to the others. One more to go.

Green. The Grenade robot. Grenade Greens were like Missile Yellows, only less useful because they had an imprecise explosion. Really, their best offensive move was self destruct. As a result, they saw little use outside do-or-die situations or outright suicide missions. Predictably, their learning intelligence was abysmal. Neon J wondered how it would even fare in his growing experiment, which was the main reason he even bothered to make one.

“ATTENTION!” Neon J greeted his final robot.

“Sir! Where is the target?!” The Green Grenade swung his head back and forth without even a salute back. 

“Settle down, Green. There will be no explosions unless I order you to do so. Your code name is Eloni. Join the rest of the troops, it’s time for me to give everyone their commands.”

“Yes, sir!” Now it saluted, completing Neon J’s line up of bots. With a hum, Neon J overlooked his creations.

“Welcome, all of you. My name is Neon J - I am the captain of this operation, and from now on you will refer to me as such. Our mission is to supply NSR with power through music! Under my guidance, you shall learn all the right moves and songs to keep the city lit up All! Night! Long! As your captain, I will be ordering you and maintaining course from a distance. My second-in-command is Rin,” Neon J motioned to him. “You shall follow his instructions in my absence. Do you understand?”

“SIR YES SIR!”

Nostalgia washed over him, both good and bad. Perhaps….perhaps Neon J could get used to this lifestyle once more.

~~~~ 

The brightly lit streets of the main hub in Vinyl City hustled and bustled as always. Ads blared in every direction from the large screens, echoing audio playing in uncanny unison. On this day, a new ad appeared.

“I may have been at sea for awhile, but I hope I haven't changed too much.” Said a familiar voice. Rin appeared on the screen as multiple camera angles showcased his new look in time to the beat of the instrumental track of their new debut song. The camera landed on his face, and he rested his fully articulated finger on his chin to demonstrate his new flexibility and glittering cheek plates. “Now that I’m back from leave, I’m ready to share the spotlight with some new fresh, sexy faces! Introduce yourself, boys!”

The camera zoomed out to reveal Rin flanked by his new brothers, Purl-Hew and Zimelu on the left and Haym and Eloni on the right. The word ‘INTRODUCING’ flashed on the screen, before cutting to a close up of each individual robot.

“Purl-hew.” 

“The name’s Zimelu!”

“I’m Haym!”

“Aaaaand Eloni!”

“And together we are…” They all began in unison. The four motioned to Rin, who gave a stiff salute in the center. “1010! Don’t miss our new debut concert in Metro Division’s Waterfront Concert Hall!”

Information on when and where to by tickets quickly scrolled across the screen as the boys held their poses. Within days, tickets for the medium sized venue were sold out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN (THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN)
> 
> i wanted to reference over again so bad but come to find out its a one direction song. this is not a one direction song reference. wrong boyband.


	7. Haym's Lesson

Despite everything, Neon J had not lost sight of his original goals. His troops climbed up the ranks over the next few months, generated more power than ever before for Vinyl City, and further contributed to its growing economy. There was just one thing he had failed to progress on - how advanced could the naval bots become? Concerts helped him achieve quite a bit, but he needed to feed his robots information about everyday life if they were to learn and grow. 

With five of them to deal with now instead of just one, it was more difficult to track their progress. He still tried, however, keeping notebooks in the nightstand that were color coded to each designated member. Haym and Zimelu had the most notes, with Purl-Hew lagging behind a little, followed by Eloni, then finally....Rin. Neon J frowned internally. Rin should be leading the pack. Neon J sat on his bedside and turned over Mark I Rin’s hat in his hands, over and over, flipping it back and forth. Some data gathering missions were long overdue.

Haym. He would start with Haym.

\----

"Cast Tech seems to be in much better condition than this area of the city, captain." Haym commented. Neon J and Haym wandered downtown Metro Division, Haym kicking puddles curiously in the large yellow rubber rain boots Neon J had custom made for him for their trip. There was no rain, of course - just the usual mismanagement of the district causing an inch of water to flood the streets once again. "Why is it in such disarray?" 

“Poor leadership from cruel, selfish leaders. They misappropriated both funds and energy before they were finally caught.” A drug bust in the district leaders’ homes last week didn’t help, either, but Neon J left that out. “Seeing a district in such a sorry state isn’t common. NSR and Tatiana already seized control to keep the power running, but districts need strong, present leadership to function as intended.”

They passed by the entrance to the large roller coaster that normally twisted through the city. Haym read the sign draped over the entrance out loud - ‘OUT OF ORDER - NOT ENOUGH POWER’. Metro Division was meant to have an exciting carnival theme with its own attractions and rides, so the shutdown left an eerie yet peaceful quiet in its wake. The atmosphere bordered on oppressive, but Haym bounced along anyways.

“What’s that?” Haym asked, pointing to a rusty blue robot spinning in lazy circles. 

“That’s a water sweeping robot. Looks like it’s broken.” Neon J nudged it with his foot and watched it turn the opposite direction. “I bet I could fix it.”

Haym tilted his head with a blink and poked it with his own rubbery boot. The stimulus provided the same reaction back in the other way, so he lost interest and followed his captain further down the street. He stopped once again when he found something else interesting.

“Captain,” Haym spoke up. “There’s another robot here.”

“Hmm,” Neon J had been watching a resident across the road open their door to retrieve a soggy newspaper. He looked left and saw Haym staring at a crumpled heap of metal sitting at the edge of a nearby alleyway. Unlike 1010’s robot type, these were Type-01’s, a dime a dozen. They had little AI learning capabilities, but they were the only model of robot produced throughout the entire duration of the war. Cheap, but sturdy and powerful. “So there is. I don’t think this one can sing, though, heh. But I could fix it, too, and it probably could be used for something else.”

“You are a very skilled engineer, Captain. Are you here to aid in repairing this district?”

“Not yet, boy. Come on, we have one more stop to make.” Neon J tugged on his arm, and Haym walked at his side. Rhythmic footsteps of someone running through the water echoed through the silent streets. 

_Plap plap plap plap. Plap plap plapplap plapplap plapplap plapplapplapplap_ -something pinged on Neon J’s radar from behind.

“HAAAAYM!” An unknown, high pitched voice squealed.

“ENEMY ON THE REAR!” Neon J spun around with a shout, scrambling for a weapon he did not have. 

_THUNK!_

Haym stood there as someone collided into him at full force from behind. However, the attacker failed to even knock him off balance, for he was a quarter ton of metal. Instead, she slowly slid down, arms entangled around his waist. Neon J noticed her long brown hair, and it clicked for him this was nothing more than a young civilian girl. Haym glanced at her, then up at Neon J. 

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Neon J stomped his feet. “Young lady, you have FIVE seconds before I call the police!”

“Ow….Haym….” She whined, pulling her reddened face out of the plates in his back. She had not let go. “I’m a huge fan…!”

"FIVE." Neon J barked. "FOUR-"

“Okay, okay!” She pulled herself back. The girl wobbled, a little unsteady on her feet.

“You are a fan? Why did you attack me?” Haym tilted his head.

“No no! I’m not attacking you! I just...I saw you and I got so excited ‘cause I like you soooo much that I wanted to give you a hug! Hehehe!” She grinned a toothy grin. Neon J did not think 1010 had reached the level of popularity to have outrageous fans like this already, but he supposed it was coming at some point. He would know better now.

“A hug.” Haym repeated to himself. 

“You practically assaulted him!” Neon J wagged his finger at her. “I should report you to the police for assault!” Her cheery expression never faltered.

“Captain…” Haym put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I am unhurt. She is just a fan.”

“Yeah! I’m just...really really really excited! Haha! I can’t believe I’m meeting Haym from 1010!” She clapped her hands together. Haym reached out and grabbed one suddenly.

“And I’m charmed to meet you~” He winked. The order ‘be nice to the fans’ needed more nuance, it seemed. The excitable girl looked like she may faint.

“Do NOT go into charm mode with this girl! That is an order!” Neon J barked. Haym retracted his arm and stiffened in an instant. “Listen, I’ll let you off the hook this time. You look young, kid. But if you ever come near my troops again I’m filing a restraining order! Now scram!”

“Haha, okaaaay~” She said dreamily. 

“The nerve of some people, Haym. You can’t let people you don’t know touch you like that.” Neon J sighed and grabbed Haym’s arm to pull him along.

“She was a fan.” Haym replied. Neon J wondered if he was arguing with him, or simply fighting with two conflicting orders. 

“She...she likely intended no harm.” He conceded. “But you have to be careful. Not everyone is so kind, even if they seem like they are.”

“I know.” Haym paused, glancing at the track of the powered-off roller coaster overhead. “Why aren’t all humans kind? It seems inefficient.” 

“Because...because they _think_ what they’re doing is kind. Or there’s something wrong with them, and they don’t care about their fellow man. I don’t know. In an ideal world, everyone would be kind to one another. The people could live freely and smile.” Neon J folded his arms and breathed. “I’m sorry I blew up back there. Fear got the best of me.”

“Captain. You are kind.” Haym observed. 

“I...” Neon J looked away from him. “Let’s make one more stop before we go home. There’s some real estate I’d like to look at…”

\----

The two returned home late that evening with no further incident. It was odd, having someone leave the light on for him when he came home. He only hoped they could move into larger quarters soon. The boys needed their own rooms, not just a cramped basement laboratory to sleep in. Neon J unlocked all seven locks on the door to find his troops all huddled around the television. Rin, Eloni, and Purl-Hew stood to greet him. Zimelu remained seated with no acknowledgement.

“Welcome back, Captain, Haym. How was your mission?” Rin spoke.

_So I look over and I see Mikayla clearly go RIGHT FOR HIS ASS while they were taking the picture, and I, like, totally know th-_ Whatever too-loud TV program they had discovered sounded truly inane. Neon J was certain he had left it on a nature documentary about deer when he left. 

"What in the sam hill is this?" Neon J swiped the TV remote and changed the channel.

"I was gathering information!" Zimelu snapped out of his trance once the channel changed.

"Not all information is helpful information." Neon J changed it to the local news. "Let's try to find some that's actually useful."

_If you're just joining us we've just learned that esteemed Natura District Leader Laurel has reportedly just passed from previously-undisclosed terminal brain cancer at thirty-five. Only his relatives and his private doctors knew of the condition. Officials are reporting his daughter plans to run for office in his stead. If you'd like to take part in Laurel's celebration of life service, Old Oaks Funeral Home in Natura will be holding a fan memorial at…_

"Well, I'll be damned." Neon J folded his arms. "So young, too…" 

Two districts were now left leaderless, at least for a few more months. He did not envy the amount of work Tatiana would have to go through as a result. At least Natura was a thriving district built off of a political dynasty opposed to a mismanaged dump. 

"How was your mission?" Rin repeated.

"Tell him about it, Haym." Neon J responded and waved them off, watching as they prepared to interview Tatiana. She shed no tears and expressed little emotion at all as she appeared on the screen. But Neon J could see the thousand yard stare in her eyes. She never saw it coming. He felt a weird pang of sympathy in his old, human heart.

"Hello, Rin. Our mission was highly successful. I learned something new today.” Haym answered.

“Share this new information with us.” Purl-hew said.

“This is a hug!” Haym declared, before barreling into the three of them with his arms wide open. Zimelu did a tactical roll from his spot on the floor and narrowly avoided the collision. The other four metal bodies clanked together loudly as they hit the ground. Neon J watched in stunned silence. “A hug!” He repeated, almost proud of himself.

Neon J didn’t know what to say first - correct him on what a hug was, or beg him not to tear a hole in the floorboards before they could sell this place and move out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else ever notice when you run through metro division (which i have booted up the game 5 separate times just to do for this fic) it seems to be noticeably struggling more than other districts? or am i just projecting?
> 
> also, a cameo! a super annoying one, but a cameo! and we begin to learn about other boys!


	8. Zimelu's Lesson

Neon J and Zimelu had gone to Black Hole Cafe sometime mid morning. The breakfast rush was over, but it was far too early for lunch, which left a nice lull where the place wasn’t overwhelmingly crowded. The usual low roar of chatter and ambient music floated through Neon J’s auditory sensors, and he could almost imagine the thick smell of fresh brewed coffee in the air if he thought about it hard enough. Zimelu’s eyes darted around as he and Neon J waited in line. Due to last month’s incident, he had opted to put Zimelu in something of a disguise. He had covered his head with a beanie, and his body with a large, white trench coat. Curiously, though he wore the coat as ordered, Zimelu kept shaking his arms.

“I do not like this coat.” Zimelu informed him.

“Why not?” Neon J perked up at the negative statement.

“It is...cumbersome.” His eyebrows knit together in an imitation of a frown, though his lips didn’t move quite right. “No. It’s annoying.”

“I know, I know.” Neon J took a step forward in line. “I plan on implementing the self activating shields if fans get too rowdy in a future upgrade, but that’ll take some time. We have a lot going on right now.”

“Why are we even here?” He asked.

“We’re relocating our base to Metro Division next week.” Neon J reminded. Too bad Zimelu did not discover this newfound sense of negative emotions after they were finished with the stress of moving. This was what he got for pulling Zimelu away from the TV for an outing. “I’d like to have one more coffee from my favorite place before we leave. I may not have time to stop by anymore.”

“Why does it matter?” 

“Huh?” Neon J faced towards him. “What do you mean?”

“Why does it matter? You cannot taste it.” He folded his arms. “This seems ineffi- no. _This is a waste of time_.”

Something in him desperately wanted to snap, and it might have if that wasn’t coming from his own creation. He forced himself to remember that Zimelu simply did not know better. Like a child, perhaps, ignorant to the correct social etiquette that came with interacting with cyborgkind. 

Zimelu needed to be corrected on this behavior, immediately. Neon J sucked in a deep breath, stomping his foot as he jammed his finger in Zimelu’s face. He leaned back, but that only allowed Neon J to further get in his face.

“Listen up, boy. I’ve had this body for over _six years_.” He kept his voice low so as not to cause a scene, causing him to growl out his reprimand. “You think I don’t know what I can and can’t do? You think I need you to tell me the limitations of this shell I’m stuck in? Because I don’t. That television is rotting your fucking brain if you think you can speak to me like that. You may not know any better now, but if you don’t start acting right from here on, there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear, soldier?” 

“Sir yes, sir!” Zimelu stopped hunching and saluted. His answer came out robotic, but Zimelu's gaze clearly avoided the direction of Neon J's screen. Perhaps Neon J had underestimated how much there was to teach five different robots about everyday life.

"Uhm….sir?" The gentle voice of the barista cut through the tension. “You’re next.”

“Oh. Excuse me.” Neon J cleared his throat and faced her. 

“No problem.” She smiled. Neon J had never seen this girl working here before. “I’m Aura, and welcome to Black Hole Cafe. What can I get for you?”

“Ah, one hot coffee please. Black, medium, to go. Put it down for J. Oh, and I’ll need a straw.”

“Ooookay,” she sang, slightly too chipper as she punched in the order. “And anything else for you?”

“That is all, miss.”

“Alright. And for your son?”

“My wh-” Zimelu and Neon J exchanged glances. “He’s not my- I mean...no. He doesn’t want anything.”

“Okay, that’ll be $2.27…” She took Neon J’s crumpled money. “Please wait to the right of the counter, it’ll be ready in just a moment.”

Zimelu and Neon J took a step to the right to let more customers pass by. Neon J stood with his hands behind his back, screen slightly tilted in order to see Zimelu. His robot companion just stood there as he stared off at the people walking by and making orders. Neon J found himself trying to read his emotions before he realized the effort would be futile.

“Order for Jay?” Aura called, holding the coffee by the lid from behind the counter.

“Ah,” Neon J turned around. “That’s me-”

As she turned to hand him the drink, the lid popped off and sent the contents of it crashing to the ground. Neon J watched it happen, almost in slow motion, and felt very thankful he was unable to cringe visibly. He heard the coffee splash to the ground, and the barista gasped in horror.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry! It’s my first day so I’m- I’m really nervous and I feel so bad.” She rushed over to grab some napkins from behind the counter. Another barista noticed and stopped what he was doing to help. “I’ll make you another one!”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” He waved his hand awkwardly. He glanced at Zimelu, who watched with no expression. “We can wait, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

True to her word, she made him another one, complete with a straw jammed in the small opening of the hot coffee lid. Neon J dropped a five dollar bill in the tip jar for the trouble. He held his drink as he exited the building, waiting for it to cool down to a drinkable temperature. Zimelu followed behind him. Neon J opened his feeding port and took a sip once they arrived at the bus stop, but pain registered instantly.

“Ah, that’s hot…” He muttered, coughing. It would need a few more minutes.

“Captain.” Zimelu said, facing away.

A full turn passed on Neon J’s radar before he responded. “What is it?” 

Zimelu stood with his arms behind his back. He continued staring in the opposite direction, at who or what, Neon J didn't know. He remained quiet for so long, Neon J was beginning to wonder if he somehow hadn't heard his response. Neon J cleared his throat. "Go on. What is it?"

“Oh my God. I am so sorry." He finally said with little inflection. Zimelu spun around on his heel, mouth turned into a frown, eyebrows scrunched together, twisted into a familiar expression. "I’m so sorry. I feel so bad.”

“What...what do you mean?” Neon J balked. 

“Is this the proper response in order to rectify an error?” Zimelu turned his head. "Perhaps I have misunderstood..."

“You’re...you’re apologizing.” Neon J tried to confirm it to himself, mind running with how many updates he would have to make to Zimelu’s progression diary. “This...this is unprecedented. I-”

“You are displeased?” Zimelu’s face tried to reset to its usual emotionless scrunch, but the eyebrows stayed pinched with worry. 

“No no no! Not at all! I- Yes, Zimelu, you are right on target.” Neon J smacked his hand on the robot’s back. “When you make an error towards another person, you should say ‘I’m sorry’.”

“Understood.” He nodded in response. “Is there...remaining trouble?”

“No, Zimelu, it’s alright. I forgive you. That means everything is okay.” Perhaps dragging Zimelu away from the TV wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its a bit short! this chapter was gonna be a bit longer, but i decided to break it in half for flow reasons. i'm sorry my updates have gotten so slow, but i'm determined to finish this thing! stay tuned, especially if your favorite boy hasn't gotten his spotlight yet!
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to mention, Aura is a cameo from someone I met in the Stevenbones server named Just Val. I can't seem to get a hold of them but I hope they see this!!


End file.
